Not this year either
by Charisma1901
Summary: Sam and Dean don't ask for much, but when it's two days before Christmas is it hard not to? just a one shot drabble/fluff fic whatever you wish to call it
1. December 23rd

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own supernatural OR any of its characters!**

**Warnings: may contain, coarse language, and mild violence.**

**Please enjoy and review :)**

* * *

><p><strong>~December 23rd 1989~<strong>

"No! And if I hear it again I will give you something to cry about!" John snapped his grip tightening on the wheel.

Sam wiped the tears from his eyes, his chest hurting, guess he and his older brother, Dean, won't be getting a Christmas this year either.

Dean looked around from the passenger seat at Sam, his heart sinking at the sight of his little brothers sad, red face, Sam was five years old and still hadn't had a Christmas, even Dean got at least one or two before the tragic incident of their mother, Mary's death, nothing was ever the same since that terrible night, Dean remembered the heat from Sam's nursery, the smell of smoke, the stench of evil that plagued the air, his father's orders echoing in his mind, a tear ran down his cheek, a lump in the back of his throat. John's focus had turned to Dean; he was enraged to see his eldest crying. He threw a menacing look at his son, Dean knew he was in deep shit, he was waiting for the inevitable, but it didn't come, his father was now watching the road, his eyes narrowed , this didn't mean that he was off the hook.

They later pulled up outside another sleazy motel, taking the same precautions as always.

"Sammy, why don't you go get yourself a soda?" John asked handing him some small change.

Sam took the money and ran off towards the closest vending machine. Dean started following after him when he felt a sudden tug on the back of his shirt; John pulled dean up against the impala out of Sam's view. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, John's slap stinging his face, "Dean? What the hell is wrong with you? Pulling that crap in front of Sam? He has got to look up to you boy! how is he supposed to do that if he sees you crying over some stupid holiday, we have bigger problems, now grow up!" he shouted letting go of his sons shoulders, he unpacked their stuff and headed towards the motel room door, Dean gathered himself before joining his father.

"here." stated Sam holding a can of cold cola out in front of him, an inviting smile on his face, Dean took the soda from him, ruffling his hair, Sam chuckled making Dean Smile.

His father was right; Sam did look up to Dean, more than he did John which was fine considering John was barely there, unable to keep a watchful eye on his babies, which was why he needed dean to be strong, for Sam and his own survival, he had taught dean everything he knows, about surviving, about hunting, about what was really out there in the world, lurking in the shadows, John like many 'hunters' were forced into this life, after the death of his beloved Mary, he devoted his life and unknowingly, his kids lives, to tracking down and killing the thing responsible, John loved his family, or what was left of it, being a hunter wasn't exactly something for people who wanted a normal, safe life with loved ones, John had been warned many times that he was more of a threat to his sons than anything, sure he had hit them on more than one occasion , only if they got out of line, nothing serious, he'd never broken a bone or spilt blood, not yet anyway, he'd never really admit it, but Dean reminded John of Mary..allot, even if anyone had pointed it out, he would disagree even act offended that they could compare his son to a woman, but it was true, Dean's big, beautiful, green eyes were a dead giveaway, with their thick lashes and sparkling texture, it sometimes pained John to look his son in the face, because of how he resembled her so.


	2. December 24th

December 24th 1989

"And if you smell sulphur or rotten eggs?" John questioned filling a duffel bag with fire arms.

"Take Sammy into the bathroom, lock the door behind us, with a line of salt, waiting for the safe word" Dean finished.

"Good boy" John smiled running his hand through dean's hair. "You need a cut..." he sighed slipping his boots on.

Dean grimaced at the thought of another one of dad's 'hair cuts', he couldn't bare the embarrassment of it, he decided he would try and cut it himself when John was out, not like it would be any trouble, John would be gone for hours on end even the whole night but would always send around a family friend if it were more than an entire day.

"Alright boys, I'm off, phone numbers are by the phone, leave the bible on the bed if there is any trouble for when I get home" he ordered racing around for any last minute requirements. He kissed his boys good-bye and locked the door behind him.

Dean grabbed a pair of scissors, and headed for the small bathroom, closing the door, he studied his hair in the mirror, he took the scissors to his hair and cut off a few locks, so far so good, he cut a little too much off the top on the right leaving an uneven patch, he pushed it up a little, creating a lift, he liked this, and was very pleased with himself.

The bathroom door pushed open and Sam peered in, he spotted the hair on the floor and gasped.

"Do you like it Sammy?" Dean asked still checking out his new do.

"Why don't you have your hair like me?" Sam wondered tilting his head.

"Your hair is too long, like a chick!" Dean teased.

"NO!" Sam argued puffing out his chest, whenever Sam didn't get his way he puffed out his chest and pulled a sour face.

Dean laughed, jumping down to clean up all the hair, making sure not to leave a single strand behind.

"It looks stupid" Sam gruffed.

"You're just jealous." Dean taunted sticking out his tongue.

Sam was jealous, he hated his hair (ever since dean said it looked girly) he wanted a hair cut too, just like Dean's. Dean had only left Sam for a few minutes before he noticed a curly lock of brown hair on the floor, his gaze followed up a stool with Sam standing on it, scissors in hand, and an unmissable gap in Sams bangs.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted.

Sam dropped the scissors frightened almost tipping over the chair.

"What?" he shrieked confused.

"You idiot!" dean exclaimed.

What was he going to do, their dad would know that both their had been cut, and Dean would be in trouble for trying to be a 'hot shot'. Dean grabbed a comb and brushed at Sam's hair desperately trying to comb it over and cover the gap. It helped a little, but you could still tell, frustrated, Dean told Sam to just sit down.

"I'm sorry Dean" Sam apologised

Dean sighed and sat down to watch T.V next to Sam.

"Never mind Sammy" he smiled weakly, scrubbing his face with his hand.

Sam didn't understand why he did this, he had seen dad do it, maybe Dean was just trying to be like him, was he trying to remove his mistake?

Sam scrubbed his small, chubby hands over his face slowly, stopping them over his eyes and peeking through his fingers, Dean chuckled and opened Sam's hands, revealing his scrunched up face,

"BOO!" Dean burst, tickling Sam in his ribs causing him to spill out into laughter and pleads for mercy, Sam escaped jumping to his feet then springing onto the couch

"No Dean!" Sam laughed, treading with caution.

He leaped onto Deans' back taking him to the ground, wrestling and laughing in a heap on the floor.

"Okay, time out, time out!" Sam puffed, coming to his feet.

Just then Sam's stomach growled. He clutched at it frowning down at Dean.

Dean smirked "C'mon Sammy, let's get something to eat" jumping to his feet he made his way into the kitchen area, pulling out a pot he sat it on the hot plate, he then grabbed a tin can of spaghetti and poured it in, stirring it every now and again.

After they ate, Dean put Sam to bed.

"Santa's not coming... is he?" Sam pouted lying in bed across from Dean.

"I don't know Sammy" Dean confessed.

"Is it because I cut my hair?" Sam pondered.

"No stupid" Dean scoffed, shifting in his bed.

Sam looked down, blinking his tears away.

"Baby..." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Am not!" Sam protested.

"Then stop crying over some fat dude in a red suit! He's evil ya' know, he'll bring you a big. Scary. Clown" Dean warned.

Sam scowled and hid under his sheets, "Don't talk shit!" Sam yelled muffling out.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, displeased with his younger sibling.


	3. December 25th

December 25th 1989

"Dean...Dean" a voice whispered.

Dean slowly opened his eyes to a familiar face, his father's face.

"Dean, get up we've got to go" he explained. "C'mon, get your things"

Dean slid out of bed; he got dressed and gathered his gear. John put Sam in the back seat and packed the trunk, Dean climbed in the passenger seat. He stared blankly at the dashboard as they slowly drived away from the motel, unless they were going to pitch a Christmas tree in the impala, Dean had a pretty good guess that he and his brother wouldn't be getting a Christmas this year either.


End file.
